


Analgesic

by parsleylion



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 16:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsleylion/pseuds/parsleylion
Summary: because unrequited love can be a little fucked up…





	Analgesic

Mike looked at you with a sad smile. The sadness was shining in his tired eyes; it had lodged itself there not long after Mark or Phoenix had switched off the camcorder in the hotel lobby. Now up in the lavish suite, behind closed doors, it was still there.

  
  


He was supposed to be staying whilst you’d showered but half an hour had passed since you had emerged from the hotel bathroom, dripping wet with a towel around your waist and he was still there.

  
  


“You’re not okay,” He finally spoke from where he’d settled himself down on the bed and had been flicking through a battered TV guide, “Are you?” He added.

  
  


You sighed and shifted your arm a little; the one that wasn’t strapped up in a sling. A wince escaped your lips before you could answer. The painkillers the hospital had given you were starting to wear off.

  
  


“Chaz?”

  
  


You closed your eyes. He hadn’t called you that in ages.

  
  


Mike sighed and got to his feet, the battered magazine left in an untidy heap on the bed. He crossed the room, stopping when he reached the couch you were lying across.

  
  


“Just go,” You found yourself whispering when in fact all you wanted to do was beg him to stay.

  
  


“Chester,” Mike paused as he knelt down on the floor beside the couch, “I don’t want to go.”

  
  


You didn’t want him to go either. Not just because you were scared of being alone; scared of it happening again. It had to do with the fact you wanted him to stay just as much as he was implying. Letting him know, however, was something you were reluctant to do.

  
  


“Let me make it better,” Mike breathed out, suddenly grabbing your free hand, “Please?”

  
  


You glanced over to him, his body pressed against the side of the couch; hand entwined around yours and fingers gently gliding over your skin.

  
  


“Please?”

  
  


You found your fingers linking with his. Something to do with the darkness of his eyes or the intensity of his stare. You weren’t sure which.

  
  


“I just want to make things better.”

  
  


_Things_. There was an endless list of things for which Mike had to make up for; a never ending pile of mishaps, lies, deceit and sleepless nights which he had yet to make better again. You sighed and squeezed his hand. You wanted him as much as he wanted you yet for completely different reasons.

  
  


Mike cut you free from your wondering thoughts when he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. You could taste Vodka and mouthwash. You could smell Rob’s aftershave and the faint smell of sweat. You gulped. You hated that everything that was wrong with this man kissing you made you crave it even more.

  
  


So, of course, that was your brilliant excuse for kissing him back.

  
  


His lips were smooth; his chin rough as it grazed against yours. His hand loosened its grip and danced down to your bare hipbone. You felt your insides melting as his fingertips flicked underneath your towel and arched your back as his tongue slid against yours.

  
  


“Stop.”

  
  


You couldn’t do this. Not again. You couldn’t let him do this.

  
  


Mike pulled away, his hand still on your hip. You glanced down and his eyes followed your gaze. You knew he wouldn’t stop or pull away because he never fucking did. His eyes shot back to yours and you stared back at him as he moved his fingers down under the towel, pressing them hard against your stomach; dipping lower and around you until they were stroking the inside of your thigh.

  
  


His eyes were heavy. You weren’t sure if that was because of the drink or because his hand was now sliding up and down your thigh and you were trying, and failing, to suppress tiny little moans.

  
  


“God Mike just stop,” You were beginning to ache and he flashed you a smile; a devious one at that.

  
  


“Ssh,” He whispered, leaning close to you again as his hand wrapped around your erection, “Just let me make things better…”

  
  


His eyes locked with yours and your free hand gripped the edge of the couch. His breath hit your lips as his hand begin to rub harder and harder and your hips started to arch and buck in time with his dirty little movements.

  
  


“Does that feel better?” He whispered, his lips almost touching yours, “Do you like that Chester?”

  
  


You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling terribly dry.

  
  


“I just want to make everything better for you,” Mike croaked out, his hand tightening its grip; thumb sliding back and forth over the tip of your erection.

  
  


His movements sped up; his eyes never leaving yours once. A smile flickered across his face as he cupped your face with his free hand, splaying fingers across your flushed cheek before sliding them around to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him until your foreheads were touching.

  
  


“You’re there aren’t you?” He whispered, “You’re nearly there.”

  
  


You nodded in response, swallowing down a gulp of air as his hand moved round to your mouth and pressed down against it. You held your breath as his hand thrashed up and down between your legs. Stars danced before your eyes as you came; his hand clamping tighter against your mouth as you spilled your sticky essence all over the once clean towel. You choked out a cry; felt dizziness washing over you and pushing your body to one side. Then he pulled away and you took in a deep breath of air.

  
  


Your body relaxed as Mike got to his feet and straightened out the towel which had slipped down to your knees. You felt yourself sinking into the soft couch beneath you, every bone and muscle of your body sinking into a state of serenity.

  
  


Mike leant forward and placed a kiss to your lips, walking away without a word. You felt cold as he headed toward the door, grabbing the bottle of Vodka from the coffee table on his way out.

  
  


It was all so fucked up.

  
  


You blacking out on stage because you hadn’t slept properly for weeks. You not eating properly because the man you were madly in love with was fucking Rob Bourdon. You sinking further into a self loathing oblivion because you couldn’t find the strength to hate or blame anyone but yourself anymore.

  
  


Your best friend coming into your hotel room night after night to comfort you because he was scared of losing you completely. Your best friend making you writhe about in your bunk with his alcohol tinged kisses.

  
  


It was all so fucked up.

  
  


Probably why you blacked out at that point.

  
  


Again.

  
  


**FIN.**


End file.
